We Meet in Dreams
by PierceTheVeils
Summary: After the Winx return from Gardenia, Aisha pretends her grieving is over. But Musa knows better. One shot, done for the Christmas Exchange on WCFC.


We Meet in Dreams

**Disclaimer: I do not own Win Club, though I hope you knew this already. I also do not own Gothic Storm, nor any of the songs mentioned. "We Meet in Dreams" is both real and very beautiful. I recommend listening while you read.**

Aisha wasn't going. Not at first, anyway.

She told them she was busy packing. That she needed to clean up her room and sort through everything. Her friends had been sad to hear it, but they went off with their dates anyway. Just like they wanted to do in the first place.

The fairy knew why she'd been invited. Ever since they got back from Earth, the other Winx treated her like a glass vase. Every time she wanted to cry, they'd rush over. Or change the subject. Or pretend nothing had been said. They wouldn't leave her, ever. They wouldn't be themselves around her, worried she would snap. Never once did they mention their boyfriends to her. Never once did any of them complain in her hearing.

Eventually, Aisha knew to stop grieving in their presence. Whenever they asked how she was, she would reply, as cheerful as she possibly could, that she was fine. She would comment on what a great day it was, or how beautiful Stella's new dress looked. She would compliment Flora's blooming flowers, or play with Kiko whenever he came around. She smiled and laughed, never acknowlgedging the shattered bits inside.

All in all, they thought Aisha was better. Everyone except Musa.

Her act was clever, but it had a few issues. For one thing, she hadn't danced at all since Nabu died. Aisha always conveyed her emotions that way, and would've danced every chance she got if it were possible. Musa tried playing every dancy song she could, and Aisha never answered once. She ignored it, or walked into the other room.

Aisha lived with a natural rythym to her step. Lately, that rythym didn't exist. The trnasitions were sloppy, the sways out of sync. She'd spun out of control, and made no effort to spin back in.

So Musa had stayed behind, making sure to tell Riven so he'd understand. Quick as a wink, she found her way to two tickets.

Aisha, not knowing she wasn't alone, slipped into the shower. The water caressed her in it's warm embrace, causing her to sigh. Unconsciously, she traced the water's path on her skin, feeling it wrap around her form and adapt to the lines and edges it encountered.

For the first time in that day, she relaxed. Sometimes, it felt as though the water was her only release.

It was a shame she couldn't stay inside forever.

After she'd finished washing, Aisha stepped out in her towel. Moving to her closet, she was about to pick out pajamas when-

"Hey."

Whipping around, Aisha's eyes widened to see who it was. She pulled the towel up so it would cover her chest.

"Hi, Musa," she replied, trying to sound casual. "I thought you went out with the others."

Musa shrugged. "I thought you needed me more. Riven gets it."

Aisha didn't want to be a burden, so she tried to talk Musa out of it. "No, it's fine. You all have been there for me enough. I just need a little time alone."

"You need something. Being alone's not it."

"I don't know what you're talking about. Why don't you just call Riven and-"

Musa shook her head soundly, ending any debate that might have occured. "Get dressed, and make sure it's nice. I have something I think you'll enjoy."

"Look, I already told Stella. I'm not ready for dating. Just because-"

"It's not a date," the music fairy insisted, then sighed. "Just get dressed. Make it nice."

Aisha grudgingly agreed, though not because she wanted to. She felt bad Musa had canceled her date for this, and didn't want it to be a complete waste.

Sifting through her closet, Aisha pulled out a casual green dress. Her friends said she looked good in green. Mindlessly, she began dressing herself, taking no pleasure in the event.

The dress was tight on her skin, almost like it wanted to squeeze her to death. Aisha layered on the bright eyeshadow, making sure it hid the tiredness of her eyes.

When she walked outside to meet her friend, Musa beamed.

"You look great. It's perfect," she said.

Aisha didn't feel perfect. She felt fake, like a doll with a painted smile. "Now will you tell us where we're going?"

Musa reached into her purse, pulling out two tickets. "There's a concert going on in Magix, and today's the last day they'll be here. Lots of dancing."

Grabbing the ticket, Aisha read the text. "Gothic Storm?"

"It's not what it sounds like, I swear."

"Didn't you already go to this concert?"

"So?" Musa pulled at her friend's wrist. "It's a great concert. What do you say?"

Aisha glanced around the deserted area. Literally no one was hanging around in favor of nights on the town. "Alright."

Since the concert hall was on the far side of the city, the two fairies opted for a cab. Inside, the driver insisted on playing pop music from thirty years ago, to which Musa hummed along to quietly. Other than that, the ride passed in complete silence.

As the loud guitar riffs continued, Aisha's first instinct was to dance along to the beat, energizing as it was. But just as quickly as the urge came, she lost it, and wasn't able to find the beat again.

It almost seemed to slow down, drop erratically and painfully all over the spectrum, creating a syncopated storm Aisha couldn't follow. A formerly sure thing suddenly turned wild and unpredictable, and she would never understand it's true nature again. She might say she felt better, but then she'd hear all those warped melodies floating out from Musa's room, and her rythym would disappear again. She began to wonder it would ever come back.

"We're here," Musa announced, putting her red shrug back on. After paying the taxi driver, the two got out.

The concert hall was huge. Magix only had one, so they played just about every genre of music someone could think of inside their many rooms.

Walking past what resembled a church service with choral hymnals, they entered a smaller room, where only a few hundred people could be seated.

Up ahead, what had to be the largest orchestra Aisha had ever seen lined the stage, leaving the center open for their troupe of dancers. Dressed in long, flowy robes, the dancers all smiled with serene grace in starting position.

All in all, it wasn't the scene Aisha was used to attending. Not that she really cared.

Sitting down in the fourth to last row, she and Aisha waited for the concert to start. While Aisha was perfectly okay wallowing in the pre-show silence, the lack of sound made Musa edgy.

"At least try to be into it, okay?"

"What do you mean?" Aisha replied, focusing her gaze forward. "I always go to these things with you."

"Not recently. Now all you want to do is hide in the shower. I'm starting to think you might drown yourself."

"I always take awhile in the shower. It never bothered you before."

"You never stopped dancing before."

The Morphix fairy whipped her head around, facing Musa. "Is that what this is about? Look, I promise I'm fine. I'll start dancing again when I'm-"

"When will that be?" Musa's voice took a sharper edge, bringing back some of the spitfire she had years before. "I've seen how you act. You don't have to pretend, we get it if you-"

Right as she was about to say more, the lights dimmed. On cue, the orchestra began to play. After the starting notes, the dancers slowly moved into motion.

The first tune was a haunting lament, filled with pain and heartbreak. This was expressed through the jerky, uncertain movements of the body. Their expressions convulsed, even as the rythym seemed to even out. They danced to every other beat, making it seem as though they lagged behind.

In essence, they were broken. Just like Aisha.

The second was a war anthem. The dancers burst out in violent storms of energy and passion, all rushing forward to meet a nonexistent end. They'd felt loss, and now filled it with self destruction.

The songs changed and moved about endlessly, but Aisha had stopped noticing. She didn't hear the melody anymore. All she felt was the movement of bodies, playing out a story that hit all too close to home.

It was mesmerizing. As the many women turned and swayed and stepped, it looked as though they were dancing towards another reality, reaching for a different world. A world where no logic or restrictions exist, only raw emotion and the expression thereof. A world of passion and soul.

It was a land where Nabu remained, living in the sweetest land in the entire world: the land of love. Together, he and Aisha danced forever. They pulled apart, fell back in, and got closer than anyone had gotten to her before. She laughed like no one could hear, lived like she never thought she could.

But then the final song came, a beautiful piece indeed. Though it pained her to look away, Aisha stole a glance at the program to learn the piece's name. We Meet in Dreams, it said.

All in all, the dance was simple in design. A chorus of repeating steps and sways, with slight variations over each occurance.

As the song continued, the Nabu in her mind almost seemed to disappear. Aisha bit back a scream.

But he wasn't gone.

He had faded, sure. He would continue to fade, as time progressed. But never in her life would he really be gone. All this time, she'd been trying to desperately to keep him from leaving her. Never before had she realized that he never actually would.

Tears came over her, causing Musa to voice concern. Aisha didn't mind. Crying wasn't foreign territory to her.

Besides, she wasn't sad. She was crying for... dare she call it relief?

She couldn't express it. Not with words, anyway. Her body was the only one who could say what her mind couldn't.

Nabu would never leave her. They would always be together, even after he'd taken his depart.

It was if all the wieght that she'd felt since that day had been lifted, floated off into the air with the melody. The steps to the beat were light and airy, filling her heart with joy.

Her ears came unmuffled, letting her hear clearly again. She glanced over at Musa, who was watching intently.

Aisha wiped away a tear, smiling. The motion caught her friend's attention, who smiled back.

Grabbing her hand, Aisha pulled her into a friendly embrace.

"Thanks for taking me out tonight," she whispered. "I can't say how much this means to me."

"You're welcome," Musa whispered back, not breaking away just yet.

_I'll see you again, someday._ Aisha thought, confident her lover would hear. _Until then, we'll always meet in dreams._

* * *

><p><strong>ANs: You have no idea how badly I wanted to ship these two in the one-shot. In the first draft of this, they kissed at the end.**

**But then I realized that wouldn't make very much sense, and had to remind myself that wasn't the point of this fic. Besides, I wasn't sure how the person who got this would feel about it, since they didn't mention femslash in their prompt list.**

**This fic was done for AshTreeTown, a fellow member on WCFC. We were both entered in the Christmas Exchange, and I finished my entry earlier than planned (Deadline's Dec. 26). The prompts I used were the characters Aisha and Nabu, and the song "We Meet in Dreams" by Gothic Storm. Hope you like it, Ash!**

**Anyway, thanks for reading, please leave a review, and I'll see you on the far side!**


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